


Your Heart Is Your Masterpiece

by eternaleponine



Series: From the Mouths of Babes [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Between minors of the same age, Consensual Underage Sex, F/F, First Time, Foster Care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 14:32:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15974291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Lexa encourages Clarke to apply for art camp, even though it will mean being apart for half the summer.  On their last night together before Clarke leaves, they give in to all of the feelings that have been building for so long.





	Your Heart Is Your Masterpiece

"What's this?" Lexa asked, picking up a shiny brochure from Clarke's desk. She'd gotten up to get a pencil (because doing math homework in pen was just asking for trouble) and saw it sitting there on top of the piles of detritus that accumulated so fast on the desk's surface that if Lexa didn't know better, she would have thought that they grew out of the desk itself. 

"Oh," Clarke said, "just something Ms. Burns gave me a while ago." 

Ms. Burns was their art teacher. They'd taken Studio Art together, Lexa because she needed an arts credit and Clarke because it was a prerequisite for basically every other art class their high school offered. Lexa flipped through the pages and a smaller packet fell out and fluttered to the floor. She bent to pick it up and saw the word APPLICATION in bold at the top. The first page was filled out with all of Clarke's basic information, but it looked like she'd stopped halfway through. 

Lexa went back to the brochure, quickly scanning the pages. It was for an art camp, and there were words like 'exclusive' and 'prestigious' and 'idyllic' peppered throughout the blurbs that broke up bright pictures of kids grinning as they danced and painted and strummed guitars and put on plays. Somehow, the pictures where they were doing what Lexa assumed were probably more "normal" camp activities (she wouldn't know, she'd never been to camp) seemed a little dimmer, like the campers just couldn't muster the same enthusiasm for anything that wasn't 'practicing and perfecting their craft'. 

Lexa set it down again and went back to the bed, forcing herself to focus on algebra even as her mind swung wildly between wanting to ask about the unfinished application and wanting to push Clarke down on the mattress and kiss her breathless. But her homework had to be done, or at least close to it, when she got home, or she wouldn't be allowed to come here after school anymore. That was the rule. 

They hadn't told Clarke's parents or Miss Becca that they were anything more than friends yet. They weren't worried that they would have a problem with it, exactly, but they were afraid that if they knew, they might decide to change the rules about when and where and how they could spend time together, which was the last thing either of them wanted. So they'd kept it to themselves and been on their best behavior any time they were around the adults... which had made for a very long couple of weeks... 

When they'd solved for the value of X for what felt like the hundredth, but thankfully final, time, Clarke slammed her book shut and shoved it into her backpack, which she then unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Lexa did the same, and within seconds she was on her back with Clarke on top of her, their mouths meeting in a hungry kiss that involved tongues and teeth and that sent Lexa's heart into overdrive, and she could feel her pulse pounding all through her body, from the tips of her ears down to her toes, but mostly focused right at her center. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the awkward ache that built between them. 

They kissed and kissed until their lips were swollen and their brains were hazy, drunk on each other (and probably lack of oxygen), and then Clarke collapsed beside her and nuzzled into her shoulder. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," Lexa said. The words snagged in her throat, not because she didn't mean them but because she did, more than anything, and sometimes the truest words were the hardest to say, because they left you open, vulnerable. But she was safe here. That's what Clarke had taught her, in tiny ways and in big ones, over the last almost five years. With Clarke, she was always safe. 

"Why didn't you finish it?" Lexa asked, picking up Clarke's hand and kissing her fingers, which were stained with black splotches because they were doing a pen and ink drawing unit and being left-handed left Clarke at a messy disadvantage (but her piece was still a million times better than Lexa's). 

"What?" Clarke asked. "We finished—"

"The application," Lexa said. "You started it, but you didn't finish." 

"Oh." Clarke shrugged. "I decided I wasn't interested." 

Lexa rolled onto her side so they were face to face. "Why? It seems like something you would love."

Clarke shrugged again. "Maybe," she said, "but I love a lot of things." A smirk teased at the corners of her mouth as she leaned in to kiss Lexa again.

Lexa didn't let her. It was a distraction and she knew it, and she wasn't going to let herself be distracted. She sat up, and Clarke made a soft sound of protest. "What's the _real_ reason?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke sat up too, looking down and picking at some frayed threads at the hem of her jeans. "It's four weeks," she said. "Basically the whole summer."

"Half the summer," Lexa corrected. "So what?"

"So I decided I didn't want to go away for that long," Clarke said, wrapping a thread around her finger so tight that it turned purple 

Lexa frowned, grabbing her hand and untangling it so that her blood could flow again. "When did you decide that?" she asked. 

Clarke looked at her, and Lexa could see the guilt in her eyes. "A few weeks ago."

"Because of me?" Lexa asked, although it wasn't really a question. "Because of..." she gestured back and forth between them, "... this?"

"So?" Clarke asked. "So what?"

"So that's not fair," Lexa said. 

Now Clarke was frowning, her forehead furrowed as she looked at Lexa. "How is it not fair?" she demanded. 

"It's not..." Lexa took a breath, trying to put her thoughts in order so she didn't say something she didn't mean. "It's not fair to you because you're giving up something you want to do because... I guess because you think that's what I want? And it's not fair to—"

"It's what _I_ want," Clarke interrupted. "I want to be here. I want to be with you."

"It's not fair to me because if you stay when I know that you had this opportunity to do something I know you would love to do, that you wanted to do right up until I kissed you... then I'm going to spend the whole summer feeling guilty because I kept you from it," Lexa finished doggedly. 

"But it's _my_ decision to make," Clarke said, finally yanking her hand away like she'd just realized that Lexa was still holding it. " _I'm_ doing what _I_ want, and what I want is to spend the summer here. It's not about you." But they both knew that was a lie. 

"If it's not about me, then what are the other reasons that you decided you didn't want to go?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke opened her mouth, but nothing came out. After a minute she said, "I probably wouldn't even get in. It's not automatic. You have to send a portfolio of five pieces that you've done within the last year, and then they decide who gets accepted." 

"You don't know unless you try," Lexa said. She took Clarke's hands again and squeezed them gently. "I know four weeks seems like a long time, but it's only half the summer. We would have the rest of it to spend together."

Clarke's shoulders slumped. "It just feels wrong to leave when this is still so new. Like... like if I leave I might suddenly discover I dreamed all of it, or... or you might change your mind or..."

Lexa laughed. "Clarke, there's no way I'm changing my mind. Not in four weeks, not in four years, not in four... ever." She grinned at the terrible pun, or whatever it was, and pressed Clarke's hands between her own like she was praying, or begging. "Do you want to go to the camp?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then you need to finish the application," Lexa said. "No 'but'."

"If I didn't know better, I would think you were trying to get rid of me," Clarke said, sounding like she was only half-joking. Maybe not even a whole half. 

"Never," Lexa said. "Clarke..."

Clarke softened. "I know. I'm sorry." She threaded her fingers through Lexa's hair, and this time Lexa let herself be pulled in and kissed, let herself be distracted, just for a minute. When Clarke finally broke the kiss, she still stayed close enough that Lexa could feel the warmth radiating from her skin even in the places where they weren't touching. "Will you help me decide what to send?"

* * *

"LEXA!" Murphy yelled up the stairs. "It's your girlfriend!"

Lexa cringed, even though Murphy had been calling Clarke her girlfriend for years, because she was afraid one of these times it might get the wheels in Miss Becca's head turning, and she might notice... Lexa wasn't sure what. She and Clarke had always been affectionate with each other, sitting close and holding hands and that kind of thing... but maybe she would notice that sometimes Lexa came home with her lips swollen and tender, or there was that one time that Clarke had accidentally left a mark on her neck...

She'd hoped that Murphy would let it go when he got a girlfriend of his own, but unfortunately it hadn't worked that way. He was only slightly less obnoxious now, even with Emori to blunt some of his rougher edges. 

Lexa shot him a dirty look as she came down the stairs. "Thanks, Murphy," she said. "You can go now." She stepped past him out onto the porch, closing the door firmly behind her. Clarke was clutching a big envelope in her hands, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"Is that what I think it is?" Lexa asked. Clarke nodded. Her letter from the arts camp, telling her whether she'd gotten in or not. "Well?"

"I haven't opened it yet," Clarke said. "I was waiting for you."

Lexa smiled. It was like their first summer together all over again, when Clarke had come over as soon as she got her letter telling her what teacher she was going to have, and insisted they open them together. But this time Lexa didn't have a letter of her own. She wasn't going anywhere. "I'm right here," she said, managing to sound more enthusiastic than she felt. "Go on." 

Clarke started to tear open the flap of the envelope, then stopped and grabbed Lexa's hand. She dragged her to the curb, and after a quick glance in either direction, across the street and over to her own house, and straight into the back yard. 

"Race you," Lexa said, jerking her hand free and sprinting across the grass without any further warning, her longer legs carrying her across the distance easily, and she clambered up the ladder and into the treehouse where they still spent so much time when the weather was good. It was their safe place, their sanctuary when they needed to escape everyone and everything but each other. 

Clarke tumbled in after her, flush-cheeked and laughing, and tackled Lexa back against a pile of giant pillows, the letter temporarily forgotten as their mouths met and their hands scrambled, over clothing and then, just a little bit, under it, brushing sides and backs and thighs where their shorts rode up. When they finally broke the kiss, gasping for air, they still clung to each other, trembling slightly from wanting without knowing exactly what it was they wanted or whether they were ready to have it. 

"Open it," Lexa whispered, her lips against Clarke's hair. 

"I can't," Clarke said. 

"Why not?" Lexa asked. 

"Because I don't know what I want it to say." 

Lexa tipped up her face and kissed her again, softly. "Whatever it says, you'll always be my favorite artist." 

Clarke wrinkled her nose. "You're biased."

"So?" Lexa picked up the envelope. "If you won't open it, I will." 

Clarke cuddled into her side. "Go ahead."

"Okay," Lexa said. "Here goes." But she hesitated too, because no matter what it said, it would result in just a little bit of heartbreak. 

Clarke slid her hands over Lexa's. "Together?" she said.

"Together," Lexa agreed, and they tore it open and slid out the contents. 

It was a sheaf of various colored papers, but the top one was the most important. On official camp letterhead, it said:

_Dear Clarke,_

_After careful review of the materials that you submitted, we are pleased to offer you a place in our Visual Arts program this summer._

 

There was more, but Lexa couldn't read it. Her eyes had filled with tears, and she tried desperately to blink them away. The last thing she wanted was to make Clarke feel bad for being happy about getting in. "Congratulations," she finally managed. "You must be—"

But Clarke didn't look excited. She was staring at the letter and biting her lip, and finally she looked at Lexa and shook her head. "I can't go," she said. "I applied for the second session, the one later in the summer, but they put me in the first, and—"

"Does it start before we get out of school or something?" Lexa asked. 

"No, but—"

"Then what's the problem?" 

Clarke shook her head again. "I'll miss your birthday," she said. "I can't—"

"I'll have other birthdays," Lexa said. "It doesn't matter. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to _me_!" Clarke said. "I want to be here!"

"So we'll celebrate early," Lexa said. "Or late." She wrapped her arms around Clarke and rubbed her back gently. "You know I don't like birthday parties." She didn't like being the center of attention, and she didn't like it when people made a big fuss. Growing up, birthdays had barely been observed. The best you could hope for was that you would get one of the easier chores that day, or maybe, if you were really lucky, a little extra dessert. The only birthday that Lexa really remembered vividly was her tenth, and...

She shoved the thought aside, packing it back away in the little sealed box that she'd created for her life BC – Before Clarke. 

"I know," Clarke admitted. "l just hate to think of you sitting at home alone on your birthday."

"What makes you think I'll be home alone?" Lexa asked. "You're not my _only_ friend. Maybe I'll spend the day with Anya." _If she's not working or taking a summer class or something._ She barely saw her sister these days; when she wasn't in class she was at work or doing homework. They texted a lot, but it had been more than a week since they'd actually _seen_ each other. 

"I hope so," Clarke said. "I really did apply for the second session. I don't know what happened."

"Well you had to put in a preference," Lexa pointed out. "Maybe there were too many people who wanted the second session and they did a lottery, or decided by date of application or something." She brushed her lips against Clarke's cheek. "It's not the end of the world. Anyway... maybe it's better this way. You go and come back and we have the rest of the summer together instead of spending the time we have together thinking about the time we'll spend apart instead of enjoying it." 

Clarke looked at her, and for the first time since they'd opened the letter, she actually looked happy. "How did you get to be so wise?" she asked, her tone warm and teasing. 

Lexa shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess," she said. 

Clarke shook her head and rolled on top of Lexa, straddling her hips and pressing their bodies together as she slid her fingers into Lexa's hair. "No," she whispered against her lips. "I'm the lucky one."

* * *

Lexa never thought she would dread the last day of school, but as it approached, she wished that time would slow down. _Stop the world, I want to get off._ Wasn't there some story or play or something with that title? She'd heard it somewhere... But it didn't matter where. All she knew was that minutes and hours were slipping by at an alarming rate, and once finals were done, they only had a week before Clarke left for camp, and Lexa suspected that most of that time would be spent getting ready for Clarke's first extended trip away from home. Four weeks was a long time to be gone, even if one had access to laundry facilities, and required preparation. Clarke had already made a checklist of everything she thought she would need. 

She tried to act normal around Clarke, but it wasn't easy. The fact that they _still_ hadn't told their parents about the fact that they were dating (did it count as dating if you'd never actually been on a date?) made things even more complicated, because it felt like they were constantly on high alert, not wanting to give anything away. Lexa hated it. They both did. But for now it seemed like a necessary evil. 

They made it through finals with their sanity intact, barely, and Lexa returned home after her last test with a nearly empty backpack and headed for the stairs. Clarke still had one more test that afternoon, but once she was home...

Miss Becca stopped Lexa before she made it past the first step. "Can we talk for a minute?" she asked. 

Lexa's stomach clenched. "I need to study," she said, the first thing that popped into her head. 

Miss Becca raised her eyebrows. She knew that Lexa was done, but she didn't call her on it. "It will just take a minute," she said. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you, but I didn't want to add to your stress."

_Oh shit._ Lexa nodded, and as soon as Miss Becca's back was turned, her dug into the BC box and pulled out her old mask, the one she used to keep anyone from seeing what she was thinking or feeling, and slipped it into place. She followed her into the living room and sat where Miss Becca gestured, her back straight and her hands loose on her knees, casual. _Don't give anything away. The minute you do, they have leverage._

Her foster mother sat in a chair facing her, but at an angle, not straight on like she was interrogating her. She probably thought it was less intimidating that way. Or maybe she didn't think about it at all. Most people probably didn't. 

"There's no need to look so grim," Miss Becca said, smiling at her. "This is a good talk. At least, I hope you'll think it is." Lexa said nothing, didn't let her face move at all, just looked right back at her, and Miss Becca cleared her throat. "I wanted to talk to you about your future," she said. "Specifically, I wanted to ask you what you thought about the idea of me adopting you."

Lexa twitched. She couldn't help it. She had been expecting a completely different conversation. Miss Becca was smart, and observant, and even though she saw her with Clarke less frequently than the Griffins did, it wouldn't have surprised Lexa if she'd figured out their secret. That's what she'd been expecting her to ask her about, not... this. 

"I know that this probably feels like it's coming out of the blue, and of course you don't have to give me an answer right away. But you've been living here for five years, and although there have been ups and downs, I feel like you've settled in well, and I hope you feel as if this house is your home."

_Clarke is my home,_ Lexa thought, but she didn't say it. _Anya is my home._ Because home is where the heart is, as the cliché went, and they were ones who kept hers safe. 

"After the trial, a lot of effort was put into finding the families of the children that were taken. In some cases, they were successful, and the children were reunited with aunts, uncles, grandparents – whoever they were able to find. In others – in yours – they weren't. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Lexa said. It didn't. How could you miss something you'd never had? The other children had been the closest thing she'd had to family, and the adults whose responsibility it was to look after them, she guessed. 

Miss Becca pursed her lips like she wanted to say something to that, but she didn't. "Since they weren't able to find any family, you've been freed for adoption," she continued, "and since you've been living here the entire time, I'm given priority over other potential adopters."

"Other..." Lexa bit the side of her tongue, stopping the words. What did that mean? If Miss Becca didn't adopt her, someone else would? Or could? The authorities could just come in and take her away again, send her somewhere she didn't want to be to live with people she didn't know? After all this time and all the promises that that wouldn't happen again? 

But promises were just words, and talk was cheap. 

"What if I say no?" Lexa said. "What happens then?"

"Nothing," Miss Becca said. "Nothing would change, as far as I'm concerned. You would continue to live here for as long as you need to. Until you graduate high school at least, and if you went to college locally, or wanted to come back for vacations, I would keep a bed for you. I can't promise you wouldn't possibly come home to a young roommate, but Anya survived it, so I think you would too." She smiled. "Like I said, you don't have to answer me now. Just think about it."

Lexa nodded, sitting straight and waiting to be dismissed. Miss Becca reached out and touched her arm, and she didn't move, even though she knew she should. She should touch her back or something. Smile, at least. Give her some indication that she wanted to be here, to stay here, because she did. Like Anya had told her a long time ago, it wasn't a bad place.

But being adopted? That was something that happened to babies, maybe sometimes little kids. Not almost 15-year-olds, and especially not ones who, when their back was against the wall, couldn't even manage to mimic basic human emotion. 

"Go on," Miss Becca finally said. Lexa couldn't tell what she was thinking. Maybe she was second-guessing herself. Maybe later or tomorrow or a few weeks from now, she would sit Lexa down again and tell her that she'd changed her mind. Maybe she would even decide, despite what she'd said, that she would rather make room for another kid, one who could be all the things that Lexa wasn't. "And since I know you're going to ask later anyway, yes, you can spend the night at Clarke's." 

Lexa couldn't quite keep her mask in place then, and whatever showed through made Miss Becca laugh. "You think after all these years I don't know your MO?" she asked. "Just have Abby or Jake text or call to confirm that you're staying."

"Yes ma'am," Lexa said. 

Miss Becca sighed. "One of these days, you'll stop calling me that," she said. "I guess today's not that day."

* * *

The week that they had before Clarke left for camp went by too fast, even though they spent all day, every day (and a few of the nights) together. Too soon, it was Friday, and Clarke was leaving in the morning for the long drive north to where the camp was located, several states away. They'd gotten permission to move their sleepover to the treehouse, despite the fact that there was rain predicted, and they'd unzipped their sleeping bags and zipped them back together as one big bag that they could share. "Conserving body heat," Clarke had joked, even though it was warm enough that were currently on top of the bags instead of in them. Really, it was just an excuse to be close to each other... not that they needed one. Every moment they had to themselves, they were touching in some way, stealing kisses with an urgency they'd never felt before. 

Lexa slid her hand under the back of Clarke's tank top, her fingers brushing over the downy hairs at the small of her back before tracing up her spine. She'd discarded her bra so there was nothing in Lexa's way as she crept up and up, dragging Clarke's shirt up with her and exposing her side. 

Clarke sighed against her mouth and dug her fingers into Lexa's shoulder blade, arching against her. Lexa could feel Clarke's nipples through the thin layers of cloth that only just barely separated their bodies, and her breath caught as the idea flashed through her mind that she wanted to touch them. It wasn't the first time... but it was the first time that she'd seriously considered doing it. It was the first time that she thought maybe Clarke would not just let her, but want her to. 

She slid her hand back down to Clarke's side, and then slowly, so slowly, up to her ribs. Softly, tentatively, she let one fingertip trace the bottom curve of Clarke's breast. 

Clarke's eyes shot open, and then closed again, and the sound that she made... an exhale that was more than a breath, more than a sigh even... a sound of pure pleasure, or at least Lexa hoped it was, and then Clarke was kissing her, not just her mouth but all over her face and then down her neck, and she was making that sound again, except no, it wasn't Clarke, it was coming from _her_ throat, and without thinking about it she shifted her hand so that it was cupping Clarke's breast now, holding the weight of it as her thumb circled over the nipple, tightening into a pebbled point that she wanted to feel against her lips, and...

"Lexa," Clarke whispered, over and again, rucking her shirt up in the back to get at her skin, and they were belly to belly, pressing into each other as they gasped for breath in between heated, hungry kisses. Her nails dragged down over her hip, snagging on the waistband of the thin shorts that she wore, but she kept going until she reached skin again, pulling Lexa's thigh over, wedging her own between Lexa's legs, and Lexa jerked at the suddenly dizzying explosion of sensation as Clarke rocked against her, putting pressure where Lexa hadn't known she needed it until it was there. 

After that it was a free-for-all, hands grasping and groping places they'd never let them before, over their clothing and then under it, touching each other everywhere... or almost everywhere, and they didn't notice over the sound of their panting breaths and soft moans and almost-shy whispers of _yes_ and _please_ and _there, like that..._ that the sky had started to rumble until it suddenly cracked right overhead, making them both jump practically out of their skins. They knew it was only a matter of minutes before one of Clarke's parents came out to tell them they had come inside.

They hastily unzipped the sleeping bags from each other and put their clothing to rights (it was all still on, at least, even though it had been getting more and more in the way) before making their way down the ladder. Their feet had just hit the ground when the sky opened up, and they ran, yelping at the sudden deluge, toward the house. 

Clarke's dad was standing at the glass door onto the porch, and he laughed at them as they darted past, soaked though despite how short the sprint had been. "Upstairs," he said. "Dry off and go to bed."

They did as they were told, shutting themselves in Clarke's room. Lexa couldn't help noticing that Clarke locked the door, which she was pretty sure the Griffins had a rule against, but it was hard to think about rules when Clarke was looking at her like that, like...

"We should get out of our wet clothes," Clarke said. 

Lexa nodded, and took a step closer to her. "Did you want help?" she asked, her cheeks growing hot. 

Clarke nodded, and Lexa pulled up the hem of her shirt, the wet material peeling from her skin, and she dropped it into Clarke's hamper before letting herself look... just look... at Clarke, naked from the waist up, just standing there looking back at her. 

"Oh," Lexa whispered. "You're..." She swallowed. "You're so beautiful..."

"So are you," Clarke said. "You're also so wet." 

And then Lexa's shirt was off, too, dumped into the hamper along with Clarke's (it would make it back to Miss Becca's house eventually, or maybe it would just stay here, it didn't really matter) and Lexa wasn't sure who reached for whom but their breasts brushed first, and then their bellies, and they were kissing, open-mouthed, and licking the water from each other's skin and she wasn't even sure how they managed to shimmy out of their shorts but those were gone too, and only their panties remained but neither of them was quite ready to take that final step, so they tumbled into bed as they were, pushing down the covers but not crawling underneath them because they wanted – needed – to be able to see each other. 

They learned each other by touch first, and then by taste as they kissed and caressed each other all over. Clarke shivered as Lexa's lips brushed over her nipple and then closed around it, the tip of her tongue flicking out. She arched into it, offering herself to Lexa, and Lexa took the invitation and ran with it, and let Clarke do the same.

They finally returned to kissing, which was familiar and yet entirely new because now it was so much more, with all of Clarke's skin against all of Lexa's and still it wasn't enough, there was more and they knew it, and...

Clarke's thumb hooked the waistband of Lexa's panties at her hip and dragged it downward, and after a second's hesitation Lexa lifted her hips and let her pull them off completely, and she didn't stop to think, just did the same to Clarke, and now it was everything and there was nowhere to hide and Lexa didn't want to. Not from Clarke, who had already broken down every barrier she'd ever tried to put up anyway. But it didn't mean her fingers weren't trembling as she slid her hand between their bodies, flat against Clarke's stomach as it slipped lower, and lower still, over the patch of sodden curls (and Lexa didn't think it was from the rain) and then the tip of her middle finger slid into the slick heat of Clarke's core and she explored her softly, experimentally, listening to the way her breathing changed and the way her body shifted against Lexa when she did this or touched there, her confidence building as sighs turned to moans and Clarke bit her lip and nodded, encouraging her on until she tensed, absolutely still for a second, not even breathing, and then her entire body went soft, collapsing against Lexa as she gasped into her neck, "Lexa, god... how... you... Lexa..." and then she stopped trying to talk at all, just holding tight with her heart pounding so hard Lexa could feel it.

"I love you," Clarke whispered, her hand gliding gently down Lexa's body. "I love you so much..." 

"I love you t-- _oh!_ " Lexa gasped as Clarke's fingers reached their goal and lit fireworks under her skin. She rocked her hips into the touch without thinking, and then let Clarke have her way, and she was all three of Goldilocks' bears at once, because it was not enough and too much and just right, and she was gasping and clinging and moaning, the sound muffled against Clarke's neck so no one could hear as sensations she didn't even have words for flooded through her, completely overwhelming, until she shattered and was made whole again, clinging to Clarke as tears slid down her cheeks. She didn't try to hide them... there were no secrets here... there was nothing bad at all. How could there be, when it was possible to feel this good?

Clarke dragged the blankets up over them and they kissed each other good night until they were asleep.

* * *

Waking up in Clarke's arms, feeling all of her skin pressed close against Lexa's, felt righter than ever, and Lexa basked in the moment... until she remembered that she wouldn't get to feel this again for a long time. Clarke was leaving, and she wouldn't be back for a month. 

Her eyes filled with tears again, and for a second she was tempted to wake Clarke up and beg her not to go, to stay here, to stay with her. But she didn't. She wouldn't. They needed to learn how to be on their own. They could be two halves of a whole, the yin and the yang, but they had to be their own people too, no matter how hard it would be to leave each other after what had happened the night before, which felt almost like a dream but Lexa knew it wasn't. 

"Come with me," Clarke said, her lips brushing the back of Lexa's shoulder. Not the one with the scars that Clarke had asked about once a long time ago and never again. The one that was unmarred by anything but a few freckles. "I know you won't be able to stay, but... come for the drive."

Lexa rolled over, careful not to shift out of Clarke's arms but wanting to be able to see her face. "I can't," she said soft. "It's out-of-state."

"Oh," Clarke said. "Right. The stupid rules."

"Yeah." 

Clarke sighed. "I guess we'll have to say goodbye now," she said.

"It's not goodbye," Lexa said. "It's just see you later. Later is just farther away than usual."

"So you don't want a goodbye kiss?" Clarke asked, her eyes bright as she fought back a smile.

"Whoa," Lexa said, trying not to grin. "I didn't say that. Don't go putting words in my mouth."

"Good," Clarke said, and kissed her, not wanting to waste a single second of the little time they had left.


End file.
